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endlessthxxghts · 20 days

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Ch1: New Beginnings

teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales || W/C: 8.8k

Ch. Summary: Frankie gets introduced to a new opportunity for his daughter, Elena. You get introduced to your new job. In celebration of these new beginnings, you both set out to a night at the bar, completely unaware that your paths are about to cross.

Content/Warnings: F!reader (she/her), female sex anatomy, reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions of reader. Slight description of reader’s outfit (no size descriptions). Tío Santi (& TF Miller boys) makes an appearance. Slight implication reader understands some Spanish. Going out to bar/consumption of alcohol. Flirting. POV switch, mainly Frankie this chapter. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol (you've slowed down your alcohol intake by that point, though). “Author Chose Not to Apply Archive Warnings” because it may result in spoilers (but there’s smut here…).

A/N: thank you to @honeyedmiller for proof-reading this for me, and thank you to @javierpena-inatacvest for peer pressuring me into giving my little idea an actual chance. I love love love you both sm🩶 to everyone, I truly hope you enjoy!! All my love xx

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August 2024

“Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Morales.”

“It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Adams, is- is, um, is everything okay? Is Elena doing alright?” Frankie asks the second grade teacher, concerned.

The school year hasn’t started yet, but from time to time, the school does accelerated summer sessions that last a few weeks up until the actual start date of the school year. Elena always attends these sessions, begging her dad every summer to sign her up for one because I need to learn more! she’d tell him. How could he deny her the chance to expand that beautiful mind of hers?

“Oh, yes, everything is good! Elena is wonderful, and that’s actually why I asked you to come in,” she states. “Are you aware of how smart that girl is?”

Frankie can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah, she’s always too excited to show me her progress reports and report cards, always pulling them out before we even leave the parking lot at the end of her days,” he beams.

“Oh, I bet. She blows me away everyday, that girl,” Mrs. Adams says genuinely. “So much so that I actually think she shouldn’t be attending here anymore,” the teacher adds, softer than the rest of her previous statements.

Frankie’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love having Elena, and everyone in this school loves her, too. She’s one of our brightest. But,” she sighs. “She is so damn smart, Mr. Morales. I’d go as far as to say she’s a prodigy.”

“Oh,” Frankie says, pleasantly surprised and confused. He still doesn’t know where she’s getting at. He tells her as much.

“What I’m trying to say is- Elena isn’t getting the proper brain stimulation someone of her level needs. She needs to go somewhere that will increase her levels at the fast rate she’s moving and somewhere that will stimulate the creative parts of her brain. Traditional public school—at least here—cannot provide her with that.”

Frankie has always known his daughter’s natural intelligence. She often comes home either excited because they worked on a topic she’s really good at, or she comes home really bored and exhausted—because they worked on a topic she’s really good at. It’s too repetitive for her, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had.

Frankie takes a moment to think. “Even if I did move her to a school that has all this, it sounds like it would cost a lot of money. Money that I unfortunately don’t have right now,” he says with a heavy breath.

Mrs. Adams’ smile grows ten times bigger. “Mr. Morales-”

“Frankie, please,” he corrects.

“Frankie, there’s a school for the gifted connected to our local university just a few miles down the way. I used to work there, and I have friends there. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve spoken to the Director of Admissions. There’s a waitlist, and barely any get admitted—and it’s by semester, so you’ll have to keep up with re-enrolling her—but I told them all about Elena. They want her, Frankie. No waitlist. No tuition. They want her for this new semester. And I really think you should go for it.”

Frankie sits in Mrs. Adams’ office, utterly stunned. He’s sure his jaw is on the floor right now, eyes bugged out like those squeezable stress toys. “I- I don’t know what to say…” Frankie trails off.

“I know it’s a big step,” the teacher comforts. “But think about it.” She pulls out a card from her desk and hands it to him. “Here’s the director’s card. I’ll reach out to them to make sure they know to expect your call.”

Frankie knows this is a good thing. He knows these are once in a lifetime opportunities, and he knows if he goes through with this now, those rare opportunities won’t be so rare for her as she gets older. That’s all he wants for his daughter; nothing but opportunity and the right kind of challenges meant to help her grow as a person.

So why does he feel so nervous? He’s dealt with change before, and he’s dealt with last-minute, under pressure change up in the sky where his life could’ve been on the line—but nothing compares to the anxiety when it involves Elena. Since she was born, she is all he’s ever known. It’s been him and her against the world, and although some days are more difficult than others doing this parenting thing alone, Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.

He gives Mrs. Adams his thank yous and goodbyes, and makes his way to the front office. It’s 12 o’ clock right now—recess time—but he wouldn’t doubt she’s propped up against a pillar with her nose in a book. He decides to check Elena out early and take her to go get dessert.

“She’ll be escorted here in a few minutes,” the front desk lady tells him.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Frankie says, resting his back against the wall.

A few minutes pass and the office’s door bursts open with the heartwarming sounds of his daughter’s giggles, an excited aura filling the room. “¡Papi!” she squeals, immediately wrapping her arms around the parts of her father she can reach.

“¡Mija!” he says, matching her energy, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. He kneels down to reach her level, placing a kiss on her forehead before he speaks. “Wanna go get dessert?”

Her eyes light up like a million stars. “Please!!” she replies, her entire body shaking in Frankie’s grasp.

Frankie picks her up, and they make their way to the car. Buckling her into her car seat, Frankie settles himself to the driver’s seat and asks the burning question before he pulls off. “Brownie sundae spot or-”

“BROWNIE!” Elena replies immediately. Frankie has to slap his mouth to stop from the uncontrollable laughter bubbling out from his chest. He knew what her answer would be. “Okay, mija, brownie spot it is.”

Their usual brownie sundae spot is in a little diner up the street from their house. Frankie began this little tradition as a way to celebrate Elena’s wins and milestones. The first milestone they celebrated was for her first word: airplane. Frankie was ecstatic, practically jumping up and down with Elena in his arms until his best friend, Santiago, had to calm him down. “Ay, tranquilo, tranquilo,” relax, relax, he said, holding his hands softly around Elena’s little head.

Today’s milestone, however, is much bigger than any they’ve celebrated, and the notion is not lost on little Elena.

“Papi,” she calls. “Are we celebrating something?”

Frankie chuckles to himself, loving how easily she can put things together. “We might be, mi amorcito.”

“Hm?” She hums, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side as she settles into the booth seat, sitting across from her dad.

Their usual waiter comes before they can continue their conversation. “Hey, guys! The usual?”

Elena answers first, very excitedly. “YES, YES, BROWNIE SUNDAE!!!” She squeals as she elongates every syllable. Frankie confirms with a head nod as he chuckles at her energy.

“What’s the occasion?” The waiter says softer, directing the question to Frankie.

“We’ll see after I talk with this little lady,” Frankie tells the waiter, extending his long arm out to pinch Elena’s little cheek.

The waiter smiles and walks off, putting the order in with the kitchen and asking for a little bit of a delay to give Frankie enough time to talk things through with his daughter.

“So,” Frankie states.

“So,” his daughter mirrors, putting on her best serious face while fighting the huge grin that wants to break free.

“Do you know how smart you are, mija?” Frankie asks, smiling because he knows what she’s gonna say. Duh, papi, he thinks in his head.

“Duh, papi!” She says, a troublemaking giggle she’s had since her babbling stages echoes their little corner of the diner.

“Alright, little smart ah-” Frankie coughs to stop his mouth. “You little smarty pants,” he corrects himself.

“Daddy, were you about to call me a smartass?” She scolds.

His cheeks flush a bright red. “You spend too much time with Tío Santi,” he deadpans.

She hums, nodding her head triumphantly.

“Anyway,” he says, noting in his mind to scold Santi for his mouth around his little girl. “You’re so smart, mija, I was wondering… well, I was wondering if you feel like you’re actually learning?”

“What do you mean, papi?”

“Well, everything you’ve been learning so far is super easy for you, isn’t it?”

She ponders for a moment. “Yeah, it’s easy,” she confirms.

“Does it ever make you bored, how easy some days are?”

“A little, yeah,” she says a little softer. “But it’s okay because I end up helping my friends, and Mrs. Adams tells me I’m her assistant,” she giggles with pride.

“You’re too good, amor,” he chuckles. “But what if I told you,” he starts. Immediately, her interest is piqued. “A really fancy, really smart school heard about how smart you are?”

Her chocolate brown eyes widen, and her little jaw drops. “Me?! Really?!”

“Yes, baby!” Frankie can feel his excitement rising alongside hers, his initial nervousness fading just as quick. “And what if I told you they want you to go to their school?” Elena’s hands fly to her mouth, suppressing her squeals of joy. Frankie can hear her legs kicking back and forth underneath the table. “Would you wanna go, mi niña inteligente (my smart girl)?”

“So… I’ll learn harder things?” She asks.

“Yes,” he swallows thickly. Frankie thinks she’s having anxiety.

It’s not. “Then…” She settles for her usual diva answer. “Duh, papi!” She giggles, positively radiating pure excitement on this new journey she’s about to embark on.

She wiggles out of her side of the booth to crash into her father’s arms, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. As she pulls away and settles next to Frankie, the waiter comes out with the sundae, Congratulations! written in cursive on the side of the plate. Elena reads the message with ease, scooping up the red icing with her finger and licking it up. “Thank you!!” She exclaims to the waiter who murmurs a sweet smartest person I know with a ruffle to her curly head of hair.

The waiter looks at Frankie with a genuine smile, and Frankie returns it. This diner really has been there for all the Morales’ family wins. Frankie wonders what other miracles just might happen in this little building.

For the first time in your teaching career, you are nervous.

You’ve dealt with gifted children before, and you had no problems juggling public school and the extra side lessons you’d give to the occasional gifted child. People tend to underestimate the amount of prodigal children in the world due to the constant brushing off these adults like to give to developing humans. These little children deserve as much respect and care that any other human deserves, maybe even more. The children are our future, after all.

So, now that you’re starting a new job, in a school dedicated to your life’s passion—yeah, you’re pretty nervous.

This school was created by the state’s local university; it was their attempt at providing children with an enriching, stimulating environment that the typical school system couldn’t care enough to provide, and their attempt was an absolute success. It will take a little while to get themselves off their feet, so tuition and enrolling students is expensive compared to what you would pay for your child in the public education system.

However, with time and careful planning, the program’s ultimate goal is to adequately provide to childrens of all needs—regardless of their prodigal status—for little to no cost. It’s definitely an ambitious goal, but it’s one you’re absolutely ready and willing to stick around for.

You were hired this summer, August 1st to be exact. The principal—Ms. Sabatino—caught wind of the powerhouse of a teacher who goes above and beyond for her students, and she just had to have you on her team. Your interview wasn’t even a real interview: it was exchanging logistical information and showing you to your new home base, your new classroom. She told you if you wanted to take the time before the year officially started to make your classroom feel more like you, you could.

It took you about a week to settle the vibe of your classroom, and during your preparations, you met a few other teachers, instantly hitting it off with each other that they invited you to their “semester pregame,” they called it.

“You have to come, Ms. Powerhouse!” Ms. Smith—Linda, she corrected you—exclaimed.

“Powerhouse?!” You repeated, a little frightened. You knew coming in that the culture here was very tight-knit, but how fast does word really spread around here?

“Yeah, you powerhouse, you!” Mr. White—Blake—chimes in. “You’re all anyone is talking about! Honestly, we’ve been dying to meet you.”

And lastly, Ms. Marshall—Leah—joins in. “You’re a real legend, ya know that, don’t you? Sticking to the Rebel theme we got going on here,” she smirks, referring to their school’s mascot, the Rebels.

You flush under all their praise. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for our kiddos, like any of us would.” A proud smile graces your face, and not for the things you’ve done, but for the amazing students you’ve had the honor of meeting and teaching. There truly isn’t a better feeling.

The three teachers share a knowing look, the one that tells you they think you’re just trying to be humble. Their hums of secret agreement don’t escape your super-teacher hearing.

Ms. Marshall is the one to speak again. “Are you going to come though? We really would love to have you. We’ve been trying to find someone who can hold their alcohol better than Mr. Lightweight here can,” she cackles, pointing over to Mr. White, who now has an offended look on his face.

“I’ll have you know-” he starts. “Oh, Blake, enough with the excuses already!” Ms. Smith cuts him off.

You giggle at their banter, your apprehensiveness about this little squad slowly melting away. “I’m afraid if you’re looking for someone who can hold their own, that person is not me…but I would absolutely love to join you guys. When and where is this pregame?”

“YAAASSSSSS!” Ms. Smith is quick to squeal. She’s definitely the life of the party with these three. “We have it the Saturday before the semester starts! So, the 17th I believe. It’s a bit risky depending on how plastered we end up getting, but it’s all a part of the fun,” she says with a wink.

You reach for your phone in your back pocket, unlocking and letting your three new friends put their phone numbers in. You group text them so they have your number, too. “Perfect! I can’t wait,” you say sheepishly, your excitement slowly rising as their smiles begin to mirror your own. It’s been a while since you let yourself go and get lost in something else other than work, and you think this little pregame is exactly what you’ve been needing.

“Oh, come on, Fish! You have to come out with us!” Santi tells you, giving Frankie’s shoulder a punch of encouragement.

Frankie hisses at the impact, swatting Santi’s hand away with a scowl. “No.”

“Fish,” Santi reasons. “The Millers haven’t seen you in a hot minute since my ‘Lena girl was born, man. They miss you. Especially Benny, you know how sensitive that man gets. And! We need to celebrate this new chapter for you and ‘Lena!”

“We already celebrated,” Frankie corrects. “At the diner.”

“An adult celebration, Fish. When was the last time you let yourself go?”

Frankie sighs. Santi’s right. “Who would watch Elena?”

“I already spoke with Yavonna last night,” Santi says, a tinge of hope laced in his voice.

“Let me talk to Elena-”

“Fish, she’ll be fine-”

Frankie holds his hand out to signal Santi to shut up. “Let me talk to Elena,” he repeats, “and let her know our plans for tomorrow night. You know I don’t do anything without running it through with her first.”

Santi’s face is happier than a toddler getting ice cream for breakfast. He claps him on his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, man! Frontier boys back at it again!”

Frankie grimaces. “Pope, cállate, por favor,” shut up, please, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he kicks Santi out for the night.

“Tell ‘Lena Tío Santi says buenas noches (good night) please since her daddy likes to kick me out so soon,” Santi taunts, a fake offended look on his face.

“No,” Frankie says. Then he shuts the door.

Frankie lets a few moments pass to make sure Santi was out of sight before he calls out to his daughter. “Baby, tío Santi wishes you good night!”

Elena comes running down the stairs. “He left already?!”

“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” Frankie frowns, meeting her at the end of the stairs to kiss her forehead.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You kicked him out again, didn’t you, daddy?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Frankie stutters. There’s no lying to this little Einstein.

“Hey, baby?” Frankie says again, crouching down to his knees to meet her level. “Do you remember Yavonna? Tío Santi’s girlfriend?”

Her gears turn before recognition sparks in her eyes. “Yeah!”

“Well, would you be okay if papi went out tomorrow? And you and Yavonna have a girls’ night?” He asks.

Elena’s smile turns mischievous as she pulls her dad in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Are you going on a date?”

“Mmm, tío Santi is nice and all, but he’s too much a pain in my ass for me to wanna go on a date with him,” he retorts. “So, no, no date. Just spending some time with your annoying uncle and some of our other old friends.”

“Oh, okay,” Elena says as she giggles. “Have fun, papi!”

“I will, baby, thank you,” he says, pulling her into one last hug before they both venture off to bed.

It’s Monday morning, one week before the semester starts, and Frankie is buzzing. He’s nervous and excited for his daughter, but he can tell this new environment is one that gets heavily involved—in both the child and the guardian’s life.

He’ll do anything for Elena, of course, and it isn’t like he wasn’t involved at her old school. But this one makes it feel like he’s also attending this place. The thought terrifies his socially anxious heart.

He puts his car in park and practices a few breathing exercises before he gets out. He has a meeting with the principal today—Ms. Sabatino?, he tries to remember. This meeting is for her to finally get to know him, and for the paperwork to get finalized. And because they aren’t charging him for this semester, he also needs to fill out some waivers.

He makes his way to her office, checking in at the front desk and waiting to be pulled back. His hand fidgets at his side, the nerves getting to him again.

“Mr. Morales?” A voice calls out, pulling him from his nerves. “Ms. Sabatino is ready for you, first door to your left.”

“Thank you,” he replies. He softly knocks on the door before entering.

“Mr. Morales! Come in, come in!” Ms. Sabatino waves him over. “Sit, make yourself comfortable! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, ma’am, and please, just Frankie is good,” he tells her, a slight shyness in his voice and demeanor.

“Okay then, Frankie,” she smiles. “Let’s see here,” she says, squinting to her computer. “Do you have the enrollment forms?”

“Yes, right here,” Frankie sets the folder in front of her.

“Perfect, thank you,” she replies. “Here, you fill these waiver forms out that we talked about while I upload your forms in for Elena’s profile.”

Frankie mutters a quick okay, sounds good, before Ms. Sabatino speaks again. “While we get through these formalities though, did you have any questions for me? About the program, the teachers, literally anything at all besides what the meaning of life is?” she tries to joke, sensing Frankie’s anxiety.

Mrs. Adams already gave him the rundown of this place, but the financial conversation has been clouding his mind since he first found out about this place. “Well, actually, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the cost,” he starts.

“The cost is no issue, I promise you,” she reassures. But it’s not that. Although Frankie has major social anxiety, he’ll be damned if he comes off as a freeloader—even though absolutely no one here views him that way.

“No, I understand, but it’s more so that-” he pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I’m a single dad. I’m the one catering for both Elena and I. We’re not very well off, but we’re also not entirely poor. Just enough to…not really afford this place,” he shakes his head, he’s rambling. “Anyway- sorry. What I’m trying to say is, money isn’t an issue, but I can’t just sit here and not do anything to pay you guys back, even if it isn’t in a monetary sense.”

This piques the principal’s interest. She nods her head, taking a moment to measure her response. The computer pings as she thinks to herself, signaling that it’s done uploading the forms. She hands Frankie the folder back. He takes it, handing her the completed waiver. “I respect it,” she finally states. “A lot.”

“Y-yeah,” he says, not really sure how to respond to that.

Ms. Sabatino spins in her chair, pausing towards a drawer underneath her desk. She pulls out a little booklet of some sort.

“I have one idea,” she offers.

Frankie’s ears perch up. “Yeah? Anything,” he replies.

“It’s a lot to ask of a parent,” she says. “And I know you’re eager, but hear me out before you agree. And if you’d like to say no, then say no, that’s all I ask.”

“Deal,” Frankie tells her.

“So, last semester, the head of our PTA—the Parent-Teacher Association—quit on us. She quit and also unenrolled her child. Some weird drama, it was very unavoidable if she knew how to communicate properly… anyway, we are actually in need of a new head. I will admit, it’s a lot, but you’ll have me by your side, and I know a few of the parents would help show you the ropes and help you with anything you need.”

Out of everything, Frankie was not expecting this. It’s evident in the shocked look on his face.

“Like I said, I don’t need an answer right now-”

“What about the existing PTA parents?” Frankie blurts out. He may have not been PTA-level involved with his daughter, but he knows the seriousness in which parents take their roles when it comes to this.

“I appoint the head, and choosing one out of all of them would… to be frank… be a bloodbath. This PTA needs a fresh face. A new perspective. I can tell you’re nervous, but I can also tell you’re ambitious. I can tell you’d do anything for your daughter first and foremost. That is what my PTA needs. The rest of those parents- God- I love them, but they’re more worried about looking good and their brownie points with me than their kids’ experiences.”

If Frankie was unsure before, he definitely isn’t now. All he wants is the best for his daughter, and honestly, it makes him disappointed to hear where these parents’ priorities are. He’s absolutely scared shitless about doing this, but he can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”

Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure?”

He isn't, he thinks. “Yes,” he tells her.

“Oh- okay, then,” Ms. Sabatino smiles bigger than before. She picks up the booklet from earlier and hands it to Frankie. “Read this over- they’re just some little rules we’ve established to keep the environment thriving for our kids. We’ve never had any issues before…besides last semester… but yeah, it’s just a precautionary measure. Thank you so much again, Frankie, and please if it does get too much, do not hesitate to let me know if you’d like to quit.”

He looks down to the book in his hand. The Rebels Guide - PTA Addition. He’s definitely not cut out for this. “Thank you, Ms. Sabatino. I’ll let you know. And I really appreciate you considering me for this. You have a good rest of your day,” Frankie says as he exits.

What the fuck am I doing? He thinks to himself as he gets himself into his car.

The rule book stares at Frankie as he drives. Stopped at a red light, he decides to place it in the glove compartment of his car. He’ll grab it later. For now, he needs it out of his view before he spirals.

Saturday, August 17th. Semester Pregame Day.

You’re in the middle of picking out your outfit when a flood of texts come through your phone.

[5:47PM Linda] You bitches ready?!

[5:48PM Leah] I’ve been ready, just waiting on Mr. Lightweight to get here…

[5:48PM Blake] Yeah okay, I’m not giving you a ride anymore, good luck.

[5:49PM Leah] Blake, I’m kidding, get your ass over here.

[5:49PM Blake] I’ve been outside, smartass.

[5:53PM Leah] Linda, we’re on the way to you. Ms. Powerhouse, are you sure you don’t want a ride?

[5:55PM] Please do not call me that.. And yes, I’m sure! I’m still picking out what I’m gonna wear to be honest. I think I’m gonna be a few minutes late.

[5:56PM Linda] OOOOO GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET LAID?

[5:57PM Leah] 👀

[5:57PM Leah] Blake is driving, but he also would like to say: 👀

[5:58PM] Umm. No. I can’t make myself look nice for my friends?

[5:58PM Linda] In this world? Not without a motif, no.

[5:59PM] Wow.

[5:59PM] Okay, I’ve gotta finish getting ready. See you guys in a bit.

You toss your phone on your bed, not wanting to make yourself any later than you already are. They are right, you don’t necessarily have to get all dressed up. And it’s not like you’re getting laid anytime soon, let alone tonight. Right? Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had any action. Well, okay, if you count your trustee wand, then it’s been about an hour since you’ve got some… but human interaction? Yeah, no.

You shake away the deprived thoughts your new friends planted in your brain settling for a sage green tank top with a lace lining at your chest. Something casual yet not too casual, slightly flashy but not too flashy. And since it’s in the middle of August, you decide on some black jean shorts.

It’s 6:15 by the time you head in your car. They wanted to get there around 6:30, so you’re not too far behind after all. It definitely helps that the bar they chose was a seven minute drive.

When you enter the bar, you spot the trio immediately, huddled by a tall table, all already cheering with shots. Linda spots you with a squeal, sending Leah to grab another round with a fourth shot this time.

With the mischievous party glint in her eyes, already you can tell what kind of night you’re going to have. One that makes you think maybe you should’ve caught a ride.

The first shot goes down roughly, an immediate fiery burn sliding down your throat as Linda shoves a lime in your mouth afterwards. “Tequiiilllaaaa shootttsss!!” She sings, already on her fourth to your first.

The second and third round slides down much smoother, your entire body beginning to heat up from its effects. Tequila has always had a fast effect on you, making you buzzed after one shot and effectively fucking you up after the third. Maybe you were a lightweight. Nonetheless, you indulge in one more peer-pressured round from Linda before you settle on a sugary sweet mixed drink paired with a glass of ice cold water.

Linda disappears to the small dance floor while Blake convinces the people at the pool table to let him join. It’s just you and Leah at the table now, talking here and there, but mainly just watching the other two have their fun from afar.

“So how long have you guys been doing this?” You shout over the loud music. Once the clock hit 7pm, the music was definitely hitting the threshold for ear damage.

Leah looks at you with a genuine smile. She’s content watching her friends be social butterflies. She has them in her presence and that’s all that matters. “We’ve been doing this for a few years now, really. Linda was at the school first, then I got hired a semester after her. Then Blake got hired a semester after me. And because we were all relatively new, we all just sort of- gravitated towards each other,” she explains. “I don’t know what I’d do without them, honestly. In and outside of the school, those two are very important in my life,” she breathes in a sniffle, quiet enough to go unheard, but since you’re watching her, you catch it in combination with a tear she sneakily wipes away.

It’s your turn for your eyes to gloss up. “That’s really beautiful,” you tell her.

Leah laughs a little. “Yeah. But don’t tell them though. I’ll have to strangle you,” she says in a mock sternness. Weirdly enough, you think there’s truth behind that.

You pull your hands up in a surrendering motion, “Promise,” you respond with a smirk. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Want?”

“What are you getting?”

“Was honestly just gonna sip on beer and water the rest of the night. I’m tapped out.”

“Me too,” she grins. “I’ll get what you get.”

Making your way up to the bartender, you politely wait until she comes up to you. “What can I get you, doll?”

“Two beers, please, and also two waters, but can you give me the waters after I set the beers down at my table?” you ask a little shyly.

The bartender gives you a sweet smile. “I got you, honey.”

She hands you the beers, and you make your way to Leah. “I gotta grab the waters real fast, give me one second,” you say, already whipping around and making your way back.

In that short span of time, the bartender was met with a crowd of needy newly aged adults, swarming her with requests. She looks at you, but you give her a nod, signaling it’s okay.

Two minutes, she mouths.

You sit down on the stool in front of you while you wait, turning to check on Leah. Her eyes are back on her friends, a warmth radiating from her smile. Only now, you’re a part of her rotation, and the warmth is reciprocated to you, too. And to think you were hesitant with this bunch.

As you sit and wait for the bartender, a group of four rowdy men take up the bar space beside you. One of them even bumps into your side, and you’re quick to jump. “Hey, watch it!” You yell over the noise.

A large hand grabs onto the guy’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. The bar is loud, but it doesn’t stop his deep gruff from blessing your ears. “Benny, watch where you’re fucking going, man!”

“Oh, shit,” the tall, lean man turns to you. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention..” he starts. You can feel the man fight for his life to stay on your eyes. He darts to your lips for a millisecond before he brings them back up. “Can I… Let me buy you a drink? To apologize?” He smirks like he just pulled the smoothest flirt attempt ever. Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but before you can say anything, the large hand from earlier is pulling the man—Benny, apparently—away from you and to the other end where their other friends are. “Pendejo,” he mutters under his breath towards his friend.

You stifle a giggle. The man, your savior, finally actually looks at you, and at first he was going to ask if you understood what he said, but the moment your eyes meet, it’s like all the airflow was vacuumed clean out of his lungs, leaving him mentally gasping like a fish out of water. Physically, though, he keeps it cool. Or, at least, tries to.

“Hi- uh, I’m- I’m Frankie- look, I’m real sorry about my friend back there, he can be real stupid sometimes,” he mutters, his rosy cheeks bright on display, no alcohol to blame it on.

As he rambles, only then are you able to get a good look at this man—at Frankie, he calls himself. A baseball cap sits on his head, hiding what you can make out as curly hair. The dim light of the bar ruins your view slightly, but you are both near the warm light that emanates from the side of the bar, so your view is not completely obstructed. You can see beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes with a pretty scruff that grows haphazardly across his cheeks and jaw, and above his lip, too.

“Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” you manage as you look up at him. He’s still standing. You’re sitting on an elevated bar seat, and you still have to crane your neck. Good lord, he’s tall. You introduce yourself with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You have to fight your body not to shudder at the warmth of his hand.

Little do you know, he’s also fighting the same battle as you.

“Can I get you a drink, Frankie?” you ask. Usually you’d never do this, but there is just something about him. You need to know more.

“Uh,” you see him flush, an internal battle going on in his brain. Is it the battle of the so-called bro-code where he can’t hit on you because his friend did or because he should be offering you a drink?

He looks back to his friend. Yup, the bro-code. You quirk your brow at him.

“Yeah, okay,” he says with a grin as he perches himself to the bar seat beside you. “I’ll have a beer,” he tells you.

“Coming right up,” you smirk, winking at him before you try and regain the bartender’s attention.

You text Leah a quick I’m sorry, to which she replies with the eyes emoji again along with a winky face. Of course she saw everything.

The bartender comes to you and apologizes for earlier with the other group and then apologizes again when she admits she completely forgot to come back to you. She tells you this round of beers for you and Frankie are on the house. You try to tip her, but she doesn’t accept.

Frankie is really nice. Really handsome…and sexy…but you try to ignore the heat tingling between your legs because of the fact that Frankie is really nice.

As your two beers listen in on your conversation, untouched and sweaty, you’ve come to learn a good amount about Frankie. Like the fact that he’s a bashful boy, but you can tell he has no problem getting what he wants when the confidence strikes him. You’ve been witness to it a few times tonight—a hand on your knee there, a tucking of your hair behind your ear here, a long glance at your lips as you lick the residual drip of your drink—and it does nothing to calm your core’s ache.

The one that really sent you over the edge though was when he made you laugh particularly hard, your reaction was to lean into him. He took the opportunity to grab onto your seat and pull you against him, his thick highs entrapping both of yours.

“Oh-!” you gasp involuntarily, your eyes immediately searching for his. His gaze is dark, and so is yours.

Although quite nervous, Frankie’s confidence has spiked being in your presence. His thumb and forefinger come up to your chin, steadying and making your heartbeat erratic all in one. He leans closer in, the tips of each of your noses a hair’s width away. “You’re intoxicating,” he whispers.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you whisper back, feeling lightheaded and not from the alcohol coursing through your veins. “Been dying for you to touch me since you pulled your friend away,” you admit.

You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He looks past you, eyeing the single stall bathroom. You scanned the place earlier, you know where he’s looking. Tapping his thigh for him to look at you again, you give him a look of understanding before you break away from his grasp.

He faces the bar again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He catches Santi and the Millers staring at him from the pool table they took over. Santi shoots Frankie a wink while Benny looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the curb. Frankie really couldn’t care less right now.

Satisfied with the little window of time he gave, he stands from his seat, taking one more swig of beer before he makes his way to you. He knocks on the door softly, and you open it right away, pulling him in and immediately shutting it again.

Like a calculated dance, his hand goes back to lock the door while your hand grasps onto the fabric of his shirt at his chest, pulling his body flush against yours. Your hands take their time in coasting the plain of his broad chest and shoulders. Your thighs clench at the sensation.

His lips meet yours for the first time tonight, and he can feel every nerve in his body spark with electricity. Your lingering taste of all the drinks you had this evening mixed with a flavor he thinks is distinctly you consumes each of his senses.

Oh, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don’t even know it yet.

He walks forward, backing you into the bathroom sink.

You hop up on your own, your legs spreading without any forethought for his broad form. His hands coast the expanse of your body, settling at your ass on the counter as he pulls you tighter into his body, your center coming into contact with this hardness. He practically growls into your mouth at the heat he feels radiating from you.

“Fuck, querida,” he moans, his teeth chasing your bottom lip.

“Frankie,” you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

“Can I taste you?” He breathes heavily against your lips, fingers twitching to take action.

Fuck. “Ye- yeah- yeah, okay,” you stutter, eyes wide. Getting eaten out probably has to be one of your favorite things in the whole world, yet, with your dating history, it’s a rare occurrence. Your last boyfriend was disgusted by it, and your last girlfriend ended up cheating on you. So. Your experience of receiving oral was rare, and God did you miss it.

Frankie mistakes your surprise as fear. “Are- are you sure? I don’t have to, not if you’re not comfortable,” he says sincerely. He starts to pull away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re quick to grab onto him.

“No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-” you laugh a little breathlessly before looking into his soft eyes again. “Yes, Frankie, please. Please, I want your mouth on me,” you say, tone a little needy on the backend. “You just took me by surprise, is all,” you whisper.

“Surprise?” He can’t stop his curiosity.

“I- I don’t know, guys don’t usually like-”

You don’t get to finish your statement before Frankie’s face turns angry. He places a heady kiss to your lips before he brings his mouth down your jaw, your neck. “So what you’re saying is,” he starts, his breath tickling your neck. If you weren’t propped up on the counter, you’d be on the floor with how weak your legs feel. Making his way down, he places a soft kiss in between your breasts. “This pretty little thing hasn’t been treated properly in a long, long time?” He asks as he kneels down, his eyes looking up and devouring you in your entirety.

“How do you even know she’s pretty?” You quip back, matching his energy.

“Oh, I know she’s fucking gorgeous based on the rest of you,” he purrs, fingers working your button and zipper. He hooks his fingers at the waist, and you lift your hips to help him.

“You flatter me,” you shakily say as you try to tease, your resolve starting to break.

Frankie smirks up at you before his entire demeanor changes upon seeding your exposed lower half. His face falls into astonishment, as if he just won the damn lottery, as if his last fucking meal was just placed in front of him. “What’d I say?” He mutters to himself. “Fucking gorgeous,” he answers his own question before he gives you no time to respond as he dives right in, the flat of his tongue licking a slow wide stripe up your glistening went cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” a loud moan leaves you, your head falling back as you relish in the immediate pleasure that shoots up your spine.

Frankie reluctantly breaks away to look at you, to check up on you, but your body is still shocked from the pleasure, and he grins, cheeks full of mischief. He hums to himself before he goes back in. “Fucking delicious, too.”

“Jesus, shit-” you murmur, trying to brace yourself for what you know is going to utterly ruin you.

He licks through your folds once more, slow and steady, calculated, measuring every small twitch and whimper that your body produces. His tongue moves up to your clit, circling around the area reveling in the way your breathing speeds up and your hips buck. Even with your movements chasing for more, he remains steadfast in his ministrations.

He continues his tease until he hears you huff. You’re getting impatient. “Baby, please,” you whine. “Please don’t tease,” you pout at him then, and whether it’s real or a ploy to get him to give in, how can Frankie say no to that face?

Without lifting from your cunt, Frankie switches from slow passes around your bud to attaching directly on it, suckling and flicking the sharp tip of his tongue across you. Your legs writhe under his expert touch, your hand flying to the baseball cap to his head and flinging it off to rake your fingers through his wild curls. He groans into you the second he feels your grip, his pace faltering for just a moment before he finds his way again.

Frankie detaches from you, dragging his tongue downward to your folds to lap up your slick. The squelch your pussy makes when his tongue makes contact is sinful. He lets his mouth wrap as much as he can around you, his tongue prodding at your entrance, testing your limits.

“Oh, Frankie, yes-” you lament, your hand pulling his face tight against your core as your hips force his pink muscle inside. His cock is definitely at full mast now, especially with how reactive you are for him. Your eyes are entirely white as you repeat his name like a prayer, your hips frantically meeting the thrusts of his tongue.

You grip tighter into his locks, angling his head slightly down, and fuckfuckfuck you squeal loudly, this angle causes his nose to nudge at your sensitive nerves perfectly with each push of his tongue inside of you.

“I’m c-close, Frankie- fuck- I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum- oh my God-” you practically scream, your body losing all strength as you fall back into the counter behind you, Frankie licking everything up while he tries to fuck you through your orgasm.

The vibrations of his moaning sends you into overdrive, and you’re so spaced out you don’t even realize Frankie’s been desperately humping nothing, bringing himself to an orgasm the same time as you. He lifts off from you completely, his breathing labored as his chin threatens to drip your arousal to the ground. Frankie’s fingers reach for his face, collecting up the residue only for him to bring it back up to his mouth. The sound of him sucking his fingers up like he just ate the sauciest of wings brings you back to reality, pulling your body up weakly as your eyes go wide when you realize what Frankie’s doing.

Your cheeks heat up, but your ability to tease is back. “That good, huh?”

“Finger lickin’, baby,” he says lazily.

He rises from his knees only for you to then notice the wet spot at his crotch. “Frankie-” you start.

“Yes, yes I did,” he finishes, knowing the question you were going to ask.

He bends down to pick up his hat, swiftly placing it back on his head while he grabs your shorts, putting them gently back in place.

“You okay?” He checks in.

You melt under his sweet attention. “Never better,” you beam.

You two stand there in each other’s presence before you finally pipe up. “So how do you wanna…” you trail off.

“You wanna head out first? I got a bit of a… mess to clean up anyway,” he says, gesturing to himself.

“Oh! Right, yeah. Okay,” you say awkwardly, as if his tongue wasn’t just inside of you. “I’ll see you out there,” you add as you turn around, opening the door just enough to slip out.

You stand there for a moment, giving yourself a second to register what the fuck just happened. You did not let a man you just met go down on you? At a bar, no less?!

You make your way to the bartender, needing an ice cold glass of water to cool you off. Your head is spinning, and it’s really not because of the alcohol anymore. But you blame the substance anyway.

Hearing the bathroom door creak, you turn around to see a blushing Frankie, his hat off his head and his hand shielding the wet patch between his legs. He sees you at the bar and he smiles, walking in your direction. However, before he can reach you, Linda magically appears in your face, drunk as shit and louder than you’ve ever experienced.

“There you are, silly!! Where’d you run off to?? Been looking for you, I swear it’s been like an hour!!!”

You look at Frankie over her shoulder, and he pauses in his tracks. You give him an apologetic smile. Before he can say it’s okay, the friends he was with finds him and drags him into a game of pool.

“Hey, sorry!” You scream over the music. “Just needed some time, it got a bit too loud in here,” you lie. You’re too overstimulated—in many ways as your clit throbs against the fabric of your wet panties—to handle more ridicule from these three. “I think I’m gonna head home now, though, I’m kind of tired,” you tell her. “Where’s Blake and Leah?”

She drags you back to your guys’ table, urging one more round of shots. You go with her to the bar to order the round, mouthing to the bartender to make yours water. She winks at you, and hands you your glass directly while Leah impressively holds the other three with a drunken ease.

When Frankie finally spots you, happy and laughing with your friends, he smiles to himself and decides not to interrupt your time. He can find you later.

Except, he doesn’t.

Monday, August 19th.

Sunday was a blur. It was spent downing more water to flush out your body while surfing every account on every social media platform you have for a Frankie in your area.

No luck. Of course.

Frankie’s Sunday was spent the exact same way, too, although he is much less tech savvy and his attempt only lasted an hour before he gave up and spent the rest of his day moping.

“¿Qué pasa, papi?” What’s wrong, daddy? Elena had asked him as she scarfed down her eggs.

“Estoy bien, mi amorcito,” I’m okay, my love, Frankie responded with a kiss on her head.

Elena didn’t bug further, but he knew she would soon.

Monday morning, Elena was way too eager for her new school, forcing her father up and making breakfast an entire hour before they actually needed to get up. Somehow, Elena even convinced Frankie to leave the house half an hour before they needed to leave, forcing them to wait in the empty parking lot until any sign of life emerged.

Elena buries her nose in a book, while Frankie sat there, watching the minutes tick by. As he stared at the building, red accents and Home of the Rebels painted in big white letters, he’s suddenly reminded of what Ms. Sabatino asked him.

He reaches over and grabs the handbook out of the glove compartment. He flips open to the first page to the table of contents, and the first section, written in italicized, bold letters catches his eye:

Ground Rules

He flips to the page.

He scans through each bullet point, each one feeling more and more like common sense, but with the way the principal described these parents, he realizes how necessary these so-called rules are.

His eyes scan the last bullet point, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh.

No parent-teacher relations. Parent will be kicked off the PTA. Teacher will be reprimanded. NO exceptions.

He flips through several more pages when Elena lets out a piercing shriek. “AHH! DADDY, DADDY, LET’S GO,” she’s jumping up and down as much as she can while being belted in her car seat. Frankie looks up to see a bustling crowd of children and their guardian. He sees Ms. Sabatino in the mix.

“Alright, alright, mi vida (my life), I’m coming,” Frankie soothes, giving a softer tone of voice that hopefully she mirrors. He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door behind him, unbuckling Elena and setting her down to the ground, grabbing her backpack and shuffling it onto her back.

Ms. Sabatino catches sight of Frankie and Elena, and excitedly makes her way over. She bends down to Elena’s level. “Good morning!! You must be Elena Morales, yes?”

“YES-” she stops herself and clears her throat. “Yes! Yes, that’s me!” She says, a decibel calmer.

Ms. Sabatino warms at her eagerness. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Elena, I’m Ms. Sabatino, the principal here!” She holds out her hand for Elena to shake. She takes it eagerly.

“It’s very nice to meet you!” Elena emphasizes, putting on her best charm. Frankie chuckles.

Ms. Sabatino rises. “Mr. Morales, it’s great to see you again!” He nods his head with a smile and a soft likewise. “May I walk you both to her class? I’d like to introduce you to her new teacher,” she directs the question towards both of them.

Elena looks elated. She turns around to look her father in the eye, Frankie’s very own signature puppy dog eyes reflected back to him. He doesn’t even need to hear the question to know what her answer would be if she pulls this card. “Oh, papi, please will you come?”

“Of course, baby,” he says, caressing the apple of her cheeks before she cheers in victory.

“Great!” Ms. Sabatino says with a clap to her hands. “Right this way.”

On the way to Elena’s new class, Ms. Sabatino really praises her new teacher. Apparently, she’s the best of the best. One of their newest hires, but she’s practically a veteran when it comes to teaching prodigal children. She’s a powerhouse, Ms. Sabatino calls her. He gets the feeling that the teacher doesn’t really like that label much.

When Ms. Sabatino opens the door to his classroom, the teacher is immediately there to introduce herself and welcome in little Elena.

Frankie really doesn’t know what happens next besides the fact that his heart thoroughly stops and Elena’s voice is a muffled daddy, what’s wrong? throughout his panicked mind.

What’s wrong? He thinks.

What’s wrong is that Elena’s new teacher is you.

And he is absolutely, wholeheartedly, positively screwed.

Fuck.

I hope you liked the first chapter of my new series, New Beginnings!🥹🥹 I poured everything I have into this story, and I’ve been so eager to share it with the rest of you. I hope you are able to love it as much as I do.

Follow & turn on notifs for @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to know exactly when a new chapter comes out!🫶

Comments/reblogs or any kind of feedback to let me know what you think is my favorite part about putting out a story!! Please let me know your thoughts!!! I love you all so much, and thank you for the endless support you all show me. I wouldn’t be here without you.

Floral dividers on top & bottom courtesy of @saradika-graphics <3 section dividers in middle of fic made by me!

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hana-no-seiiki · 10 months

Text

╰┈➤ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐔𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ? : MASTERLIST (remake)

pairings: yandere various (batfam, spiderverse) x miles morales! reader

╰┈➤ 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟏 : 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐔𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑?

summary: having been bitten by a radioactive spider is one thing, having the most infamous vigilantes in the city of gotham obsessing over you is another. now dealing with all that in addition to hiding your powers and trying to survive til christmas is a neigh impossible, dangerous task

but you were never one to back down from danger.

[ ch one ] — with great ability comes great accountability.

[ ch two ] — leap of faith

[ ch three ] — great expectations

╰┈➤ 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟐: 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄

summary: you’ve managed to save the multiverse, your relationship with your father, and your grades at school.

what now? you gotta pick a side.

aka batfam hijinks.

- tba

╰┈➤ 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟑: 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓

summary: hijinks ensue as the bat family pursues you. you don’t know if things get better or worse when a portal opens up to the multiverse.

aka the chaos that batfam v spiderfam

- tba

taglist: @yell0wdreams @humanoid606 @holybatflapexpert @girlcrafter408 @imbiafandbored @pinkandpurplejellyfish @miwsolovely @manduse @gamersansblog @kiyomisan @vanessa-boo @w31rdg1rl @hakudaru @sleepy-maenad @violet2507 @whoseaweeb @crystalsbirds @rosa11215 @literalawkwardsimp @guy-who-loves-writing-shit @ghestie93 @bussinbussiz @animelover745-blog @phoenixgurl030 @speckle-meow-meow @mysteriouslyfantasticthief

to keep things organized and easy to access only those that reply to this post will be added to the taglist !

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun - marvel/dc | 2023

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere batfam #yandere damian wayne #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenario #yandere dc x reader #spiderverse #yandere spiderverse x reader #spiderman #yandere spiderman x reader #yandere robin x reader #yandere miguel x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere jason todd

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val-cansalute · 2 months

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PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———

ch. 6

ch. 1 ch. 2 ch.3 ch. 4 ch. 5

don’t be a piece of shit

cw - set in jackson with an unclear timeline, no mentions of joel or jj, kind of half proofread, profanities, depictions of mental illness, graphic situations, CUNNILINGUS 🤰, mdni

Seconds, which blur the line between moments and hours, drag by, yet breaths still come in sharp, ragged gasps.

Your chest still feels heavy, bearing the lingering weight of the memories that overwhelmed you, and the stale, dust-ridden air of your old home still churns maliciously within your rib cage though you’re far from it now. Nothing is proving helpful in satiating your ravenous lungs.

Her hand is already soothing tender circles into your back before you can register it and the violence of your inhale softens.

“Shimmer?” you repeat, words veiled by winded breaths.

“Yeah, that’s right,” like it’s second nature to her, Ellie moves her calloused hand so that it’s splayed across your thumping heart to gently ground you and the room stops spinning so frustratingly.

Your focus shifts to her touch, to the warmth that radiates from her palm.

“It’s kinda fuckin’ impressive you managed to go so long without learning any of their names,” as always, her voice is a quiet rasp, intimate and gentle as a smile plays at her chapped lips.

In contrast, your gaze is intense and, somehow, distant. It makes Ellie’s stomach twist with anxiety.

“Wasn’t planning on staying.”

“… Right. Well, you should probably learn them now.”

You’re back in Jackson – not in your home, but in Ellie’s decrepit hybrid shed, which somehow managed to outdo your actual house by miles.

What your home lacked, hers carried in abundance; warmth and soul, with pictures and posters scattered across the dulled walls and memories laced through the trinkets lining each shelf. It was alive with the force of her affection.

Coming back invited the questioning gaze of the townspeople, but your mind was too tired to pay it any mind, or to pay the fact that she was leading you away from your house any mind either.

“The place you went to... You used to live there? I, uh, saw a carving of your name and your brother’s, I think it was, in the fence. Soren, right?”

“Yeah… Me and Soren…”

“… Listen… Why did you do it? You didn’t wanna be there, I know that much. You were... fucked up, to say the least, when I found you. I don’t understand.”

“I don't know… I don’t want to be safe; I don’t deserve to be safe-”

Your heart beats sporadically at the sudden overbearing guilt inside you, the source of which you can’t trace back to a specific moment, and your breath hitches in your throat so you can't meet her worried eyes. There are so many actions you cannot justify at all, save for the fact that there was a massive remorseful compulsion to do it. For Soren, even though you know, deep down, he’d never have wanted this, you know you did it for him. You’ll never fully be able to explain why, or why you ended up going back with Ellie without argument.

“Hey, I'm here." her soothing voice cuts through the dense anxiousness in the air and, for a moment, the fog clears - the sight of her softened face, so endearing.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Her eyes are so beautiful; it's so easy to forget what you were even thinking about when you dive into them.

"You- fuck- you know that’s stupid, right? Of course you deserve to be safe, y/n, how could you not deserve that?"

You’re a fraud. You had everyone fooled, thinking you had morals, but you can’t let her believe in a falsehood. The words burst out like rust-ridden water from a burst pipe; so explosively that she jerks back slightly, eyebrows knitted in worry.

"Because I’m bad person! You don’t know me, Ellie! I killed him! I fucking beat him to death! I am so fucking disgusting!"

"You-"

"Oh my god, Ellie, he was just a fucking kid! And he was terrified! Terrified of what would happen if he let the infection take over and terrified of hurting me! Fuck, and he begged me to do it before he turned, but I couldn't fucking do it! How could I?! And then I beat him to death as soon as he came for me, because I am a coward, and when it came down to it, all it took was a little scare for me to hurt him so fucking badly... God, Ellie, it didn’t have to be like that; it shouldn’t have fucking been like that but I’m so selfish… He was all I had left… Without him, I’m nothing… But I fucking deserve it. I deserve all the shit that comes my way. And I have to take it. All of it."

Somewhere amidst the fire, she grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer,

"Y/N, no. Deep down, you know that's not true. He was just a kid but -fucking- so were you! You were just a kid, and it's not fair that you had to fend for yourself! It's not fair that you and your brother had to live like this! It's not fair that he got infected, or that anyone did, and it is not your fault that your choice had the consequences it did when you were panicked and desperate and young. It is not your fault it happened the way it did. This world... Nothing about it is fair. Even though I can’t replace him, and I don’t know you as well as him, I care about you and I want to be around you. And I know for a fact that you are not a bad person, and I fucking know that. You are not a bad person. What happened back then was not evil, it was tragic, not evil. You can’t forget it, and you shouldn’t! But your brother would never want you to be stuck in this awful cycle. He would never blame you like this. Shit happens, we do things we regret and life doesn't go the way we plan, we lose people we love, but we move forward. We have to. And you are not alone, not while I’m here, you can never be."

Her words are harsh and sharp, to get through to you, nicking little chips at the edges of your iron-strong resolve. For the first time, you let yourself consider it, and the strength of your guilt’s hold loosens up just a bit.

Through pooling tears that threaten to fall and the lump that sits tight in your throat, you reach out your arms to bury your face into the warmth of her shoulder, and push your shaky, cracking voice out.

“I miss him so much… I can’t stop thing about it… I can’t stop feeling like this…”

Ellie immediately collects your draped body into a fervid hold, trying desperately to cling onto the rare openings you allow her.

“It’s gonna be okay. Just give yourself time. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise you.”

6 MONTHS LATER

The Tipsy Bison’s doors are held wide open, but great gusts of wind are no match for the laughter, clinking of glasses and constant hum of conversation within.

Somewhere amongst the bundles of life, you are sat at a rickety table beside Ellie, Dina, and Jesse, and are fitting in like a puzzle piece beyond all capabilities of your imagination when you first arrived in Jackson.

Jesse’s eyes held fast to Dina, who’s head was thrown back in a wholehearted cackle over something relatively insignificant. You were all slumped in your chairs with great big grins, flushed faces and strands of hair clinging to your clammy necks, in high spirits.

Your heart feels full. For the first time, you can go out and laugh freely without the intense gaze of your overwhelming guilt or constant, racing thoughts of Soren. Panic attacks lie dormant for longer than you’d ever dreamed of.

Ellie’s gaze reaches you, and the way your heart swells with all-consuming affection is mutual. You can tell from the way she looks at you, all warm and admiring.

For a second, the sight of the people behind her falls away and you are the only people left in the room, in the world. Here, you are with people who care about you, want to be around you. Here, there is a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.

After a moment, the pink-tinged apples of her cheeks fatten with a sincere, toothy grin, hazy eyes squinting as they flit down to her glass, and you notice that the number of people here has actually dwindled.

“Oh shit, everyone’s gone, I didn’t even realise.” Dina mumbled, scanning the room. Jesse lazily rose from his chair, stretching as he looked back at her,

“We should probably get going too, huh. I'll see you two tomorrow, then.” He nodded over to both of you before huddling together with Dina and drunkenly walking off.

You look back to Ellie; she’s leaning back in her chair, legs spread in a way that brings on certain feelings, raising her glass to her parted lips and her eyes never leave yours.

You watch her swallow the last traces of whiskey and set the glass down before tilting her head at you with a smirk. You’re both drunk, warm, fuzzy, tingly.

Her eyebrows raise before she gets up and leans over, and whispering,

“C’mon, babe,” into your ear.

As you stroll back, you’re met with the refreshing cool night air and you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment, hand in hand with Ellie, watching her ramble on. Your hushed giggles carry through the empty paths.

When you arrive at Ellie's place, stumbling through the door, you collapse onto her bed. This place has become more of a home than your real home; you’re almost never not spending the night. Among the clusters of trinkets and piles of clothes, your belongings have found a place, as well as the acrylic image of your face amidst her paintings.

Candlelight, the room is bathed in the soft orangey glow, casting shadows that dance and flicker across Ellie’s grinning face. You cling onto her dearly, intertwining your limbs with flushed cheeks and gazing up at her longingly, light and airy.

You settle into a comfortable silence with your bodies pressed against each other while she stares up down at her rough palm as you trace, with gentle and loving touches, the lines engraving it, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten.

She pecks your cheek,

“Are you sleepy?”

You look up at her with a sly smirk,

“No. Are you?”

“Nuh uh, you know what I’m thinking?”

“Oh, I know exactly what you’re thinking?”

You rise from your spot, nestled into her side, taking the hand you were playing with and entwining your fingers as you hover over her. The look on her face is mellow yet excited, her hands already reach out for your waist, already making your body feel hotter.

“You gonna show me, babe?”

She pulls you closer so you dive into the soft crook of her neck, sensitive with trails of tingling skin where you place kisses, desperate to feel the warmth her body emits, desperate for her to feel so incredibly real to you, for her to overwhelm your senses. You’ve never been infatuated quite like this before, never felt quite so comfortable with the love you hold for a person. But with Ellie, it’s simple, easy, comes naturally to you. She’s so many things, but, especially a sanctuary. A sanctuary weathered by the storms of your past but still standing firm.

“Mhmm, I’m gonna show you, Els.”

Ellie’s slumped at the head of her dingy bed.

Her body is bare and her muscles are tensing with each desperate, visceral movement, glowing with a thin sheen of sweat and slick,, as she kneads her fingers into the fat of your ass and meets your lips hungrily.

You hold onto her freckled face, looking down at her fucked out, beautiful eyes. They’re just begging for more after giving it to you for so long, consolidated by the sparkly feeling of her grinding up onto you,

“You’re so hot,”

“Oh, am I?” you mutter, pushing her back against the mattress and watching her eyes widen while chuckling to yourself,

“Wha- Alright, jesus fuck,”

You crawl off her lap with deliberate sexuality, pushing her legs apart abruptly. She clambers up onto her arms but you push her back, watching her tits bounce as she collapses,

“Shut up, El,”

“Oh, I see how it is, you aren’t fucking around anymore. No more mr nice guy, no funny busin-”

“Dude, fucking stop, you just, like, made me un-wet,”

“Oh shit, gotta get serious.”

You smack her thigh gently.

She grins and folds her arms behind her head, her eyes never leaving yours as you lower yourself in front of her pussy. Yours narrow ever so slightly when she grabs the back of your head and pushes it into your mouth, moaning at the contact of your lips with hers.

It gets you warm, placing a kiss filled with genuine love on her puffy clit before borderline making out with her pussy,

The sight of her eyes rolling back as her jaw goes slack has you begging for more, so you run your tongue up from her slit before lapping at it like you’re starved and watching her go cross-eyed from the sheer pleasure.

You can’t help but dip a finger a finger or two into her dripping hole, wanting nothing but to make her feel good, for her to come undone on you, slick smeared over your mouth, nose and chin, dripping lewdly down your palm.

You watch her body convulse, mattress cover clinging to her sweaty back as it arches up off the bed and her legs pull you in graciously.

You rest your head on her thigh and relish in the sight for a moment before she’s looking back into your eyes and urging you to come up so she can hold you, and also to stop breathing onto her clit because her “legs might spasm and strangle you or something,”

You laugh and lay your head down on her naked chest to hear her heart thump within her, in the tender embrace of the arms she holds out for you.

“Els?”

“Hmm?”

“Remind me to take those really fluffy socks I have home with me later. So much stuff is here now, I keep getting annoyed whenever Im actually home for once.”

“Sure, I can do that, if I don’t also forget.”

“Great.”

She lulls your eyes into a soft close with the feeling of her stroking your hair, and as she watches you exist, she realises she’d like to do that for longer. So, she leans into your ear and whispers,

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you just… bring all your stuff to my place, you know, move in with me?”

You raise your head from her chest (she immediately misses the warmth) and meet her eyes, face slowly morphing into an adoring smile which she reflects, before placing a kiss on her forehead and then locking your lips with hers.

PLEASE READ

a/n - last chapterrrrrr ahdgstihaveahugepenisdtyf, banners by cafekitsune and saradika-graphics, my condolences to anyone who has read this bc i kinda hate it but thanks anyways. im not gonna write anything for a while after this (except for this one req thats been sitting in my drafts for an ungodly amount of time) because of the situation in palestine and the upcoming global strikes. i dont want to think abt a game made by a zionist who embedded zionist propaganda into it and donated money to israel most likely earned from the game. upwards of 30,000 palestinians, 11,000 of which were children, have been murdered by israel since october. yeah, for now, it’s only gonna be palestine-related posts. please, please do not buy the remaster, im begging you. its just a remaster, im pretty sure we can all go without it.

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your-girl-mj · 8 months

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morning after [1610!miles × f!reader]

summary: morning after with hangovers and your sweet boyfriend miles

warning: mama rio in early mornings /jk

note: she/her for reader, he/him for miles. aged up!miles and reader <3

created: august 10, 2023

published: august 15, 2023

first part | second part.

[name] woke up feeling wasted the night before, which is true. she blinks the lights out until she gets used to it. looking around, she just figured out she's in miles's room.

she was scooted to the far corner of the bed, blanket neatly tucked her in, with an empty side of the mattress.

the girl slowly sat up, and she was hit with a major headache. hammering into her brain. a groan left her lips before she lay down again to make it stop.

[name] was rubbing the side of her head when miles came into his room. "hey. morning, baby." he was holding a bowl of freshly made soup, with a towel hanging on his arm. he spoke so softly to her, scared that any loud sounds would make her hangover worse.

"hi," matching his tone, she looked confused at the bowl in his hands as miles gave her a peck on her crown. "what's this?"

"breakfast, i made it." he grinned proudly. with a twip sound, he shot a web to glass of water at the table across the bed. when he retrieved it, the water spilt and wet the floor, "oh shoot—!" he was quick to send a sheepish beam

a giggle erupted from her throat, "you're such a dork." miles laid the towel on her lap and put the bowl in her hands.

"don't eat it yet," then taking off to get towels on his drawers, muttering; "didn't think that one through."

"¿mijo, estás bien por ahí?" mrs morales' voice is heard from outside the room, [name] peak at the agape door she saw her cleaning the kitchen. she's cleaning the mess miles made. [son, are you okay over there?]

"buenos dias, señora." the girl greeted, slowly sitting up again, as mrs. came in the room. not noticing miles hanging the now wet towel by his window sill next to his newly washed jacket. [good morning, mrs.]

"¡buenos dias, mija!" her voice made a slight knock on the brain, but [name] smiled warmly at her mother-in-law. "¿ya te lo comiste? miles lo hizo solo para ti." [good morning, daughter!] [did you already eat it? miles made it just for you.]

"not yet, but i'm sure it's good—" the girl was about to sip, but mrs. morales stopped her before she could get a taste. the spoon full was frozen in mid-air as she waited for the woman's words, thinking she did something wrong.

"ah!" a single sound makes it feel like you did something you should've. "mijo, feed her. i'm getting her some aspirin." with that, she left the room, leaving the door open for reasons.

"i was gonna before you came in," miles muttered a comment, rolling his chair closer to the bed, smiling at his girl who mirror it back.

"what did you just say?" mrs morales swiftly turned to face where his room is. her tone is blaring enough to be heard loud and clear. hands rested on her hips with a deep frown.

"i said, i was already planning to, mama!" miles cupped a hand over his mouth, not wanting to make [name]'s hangover worst. "sorry 'bout the noise, [nickname]." he sends a sheepish grin, stirring the soup, then scooping a spoon full and feeding her.

the two can hear mrs. morales muttering along the lines of, "if i heard one bad mouth, i'll ground him for three months. mummbling and muttering, i will woop his—" and the rest is mystery.

"its okay," she replied once swallowed, "i like lively mornings with you," [name] rested her hand over his, a beam never seems to left her features, "any morning with you, to be honest. it's been a while since i stayed over." with that, she continued to eat as he fed her. mrs. morales order's.

miles feel the same warmth in his heart at his girl. thinking about it, it's been a while since they spent the night together, and it's because he's busy being spiderman, a son, and a student all together. he only has a little time to be her boyfriend.

he soon feels guilt in his chest once again, the same one he felt last night. he now knows what she meant when she said he cancelled another date. sober [name] said it was fine while drunk [name] is saying she feels unloved.

they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

before miles can bring up the topic, his dad already there to join the chaos. "what's the fuss all about?" he gave his wife a bear hug from behind. he's already in uniform, ready for work.

"my daughter has a hangover," mrs. morales stated, she finally found the medicine, and strolled her way back. those words never fail to make [name] melt on the spot.

"kidnapping is illegal." mr. morales reminded her, making himself a cup of coffee. his wife ignored his words and set water on the table as well as the aspirin the girl needed.

"drink this once you're done eating. miles, you're in charge of her." she gave him a firm look before pulling the door to only a few inches open.

"i'm starting to think she loves you more than me," miles shrugged, taking a few sips on the soup as well before feeding his girl. his eyes are literally heart-shaped as he looks at her lovingly.

"sorry, you have to find it this way, babe," [name] matches his tone, drawing a chuckle from her s/o. after a short moment, she leaned to his headboard with a sigh. "sorry, i got drunk. you probably had a hard time getting me home," she refused to meet his eyes, playing with the helm of the blanket on top of her.

"nah, it's cool. you're adorable when you're drunk." he kissed her on the nose, which she crunched up in process. "do you remember anything yesterday?" thinking she might be able to recall what she said to him.

as miles fetch her water and medicine, she couldn't help but get curious. "no. did we swing to your room?"

"if we did, the streets in brooklyn will be close for major clean up." his hand was fast to catch the thrown book at him, just seconds after his spider sense activated. he spun to face her, dorky beam is present to his face.

his girl only narrowed her eyes at him, "i don't know if i should be pissed or attracted to you right now." miles only shook his head with a laugh.

he thought back what her words were about last night. he wanted to make things clear and apologise for cancelling his dates with her more often than he intended.

she did say she doesn't drink, but why change that last night? he thought about it. clogs working on his brain before he was hit with reality. but he wanted to confirm it before assuming.

"is there any reason why you..drink last night?" miles asked gently and worried at the same time, not wanting to make her taken back with the sudden question.

"uh.. i kinda wanna know what it tastes like and... i guess i lost track.." it was the hesitancy in her voice that made his assumption higher. "this thing tastes amazing, by the way. i didn't know you had a chef dna in your blood." [name] smiled lightly, holding the bowl up then setting it to his bedside table.

changing the topic, he thought. "what can i say? i'm a genius," he hid his flustered expression with a smirk. miles hand her the aspirin, sitting beside her on his bed. miles watched her chugged up the water. once she was done, he started, "y'know, you can tell me anything, right?" taking her hand in his. miles' other hand put the cup away, right next to the bowl.

as the heat of his palms envelopes hers, it made her lean her body to him, swallowing the heat of his body, head on his shoulder. miles gladly accepts the gesture, wrapping his arms around her. "i know you basically know all my secrets." chuckling, she played it cool.

miles rest his head on top of hers, breathing out a sigh, "not all of them.." pulling her to his lap, just letting her rest. he peaked the crown of her head. "¿Por qué bebiste hermosa?" [why did you drink, beautiful?]

[name] can tell he was worried, she also feels a little guilty. miles let her play with the helm of his shirt, folding and unfolding, tugging it, wrinkling it. whatever made her to process her words to say. "i don't know.."

"you don't know?" his hands tapping on her thighs, before drawing — doodling on her back with the tip of his finger. they're completely relaxed to each other, to the point they didn't see mrs. morales sneaking a picture of them, then letting them be.

"i was... feeling kinda lonely, i guess.." she crumbled the bottom of his shirt, "i don't really know.." she whispered, dancing around the truth. she's too embarrassed to admit that she misses him dearly,

they've been like this for almost a year. few months after miles became spiderman, he's always there for her.

they still have time together, but after a few times of miles missing a date or hangout... those few times became often. and she feels like she's his best friend again, just.. hanging around for a short while before he leaves.

"y'know, you told me you feel unloved because i always cancelled our dates..." miles feel her hands stopped fidgeting, her state completely frozen. "is it true?"

when [name] only stayed quiet, he suck his teeth. "hey, it's okay if you do. i won't cancel on you again, i promise you."

"...i—" she took a breath, "i don't want to feel like a priority to you..." miles frowned at that, "you're already busy being spiderman, and with your studies not to mention with your parents, i don't want to squeeze myself in there—"

[name] was unable to finish as his lips pressed into hers, miles pulled away from a second, looking at her briefly before locking their lips in a kiss again.

once pulled away, the girl is in awe for a short amount of time before hiding into his neck. miles gave her ear a kiss, whispering. "you don't have to squeeze yourself in. you're already in it." sighing, disappointed to himself, "it was my fault.."

"miles..." she shook her head, ready to deny his words.

"no, don't deny it." he pulled away, looking at her beautiful face, cupping it in his hands. "I've been a bad boyfriend to you for so many months now... and i'm really sorry, sunflower.." [name] feel her heart skip a beat at the old nickname he always call her when they started their relationship, where everything was perfect.

the nickname brought both nostalgia.

"i wanna make it up to you, and not just flowers, chocolates, and some drawings." holding her hands in his, he kisses each and every finger and knuckles, "i want to make it up to you in a real date, without any interpretations. just me and you." his eyes held hope and determination. he doesn't want to mess this up.

[name] feel a smile crept to her lips before it was wiped out and worry was replaced. "but miles, what if—"

"dad can handle it." miles immediately answered, but her expression didn't change, she feels like she would be the reason why someone would get hurt because spiderman didn't show up. "they'll be okay. it will only be once in a while. there are no super villain on the loose for them to need me. dad can handle a few criminals."

the smiled he adored came back, making him mirror it. "okay," she nodded, pulling him into her once again, "i missed you."

"i missed you too, sunflower."

sorry for not posting sooner, writer's block beat me like miguel beating miles (child abuse /jk) 😔

#across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #spiderman #miles morales x y/n #spider society #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales fic #miles morales fluff #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales 1610 #1610 miles x reader #spiderman 1610 #earth 1610 miles fluff

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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months

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TWMTDW Ch 3 - Miles' POV

summary: The events of the beginning pt 3, but Miles' point of view (3rd person).

warnings: grief?

A/N: This was the thingy that I cut out of the last chapter because I had no idea where to fit it. So I made it it's own supplementary thing!

Miles had left his lunch in the counselor’s office to sprint to the rooftop. Someone was playing jazz music next door; Ella Fitzgerald. He remembers the melody from somewhere, but the title is escaping him.

‘Just a…Moon’?

‘Only a Cardboard Moon’...

‘Once in a Blue Moon’…

Could it have been ‘Moon River’...?

No, wrong ‘moon’ song.

A small grin plays on the boy’s lips as he recalls clamping his hands over his ears in his dad’s car. Jazz music bored him half to death, then.

I'll have to ask dad, Miles thinks to himself. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut.

…I can’t ask dad.

A wave of hot tears that he’d been holding back for a year threatens to spill out of him. The deep breaths don’t work. The dam Miles had built was much weaker than he’d remembered.

So there he was, curled up into a shaking ball with the wind and his own sobs in his ear. Ugly sobs that knocked all of the air out of his lungs. No one else ever seemed to have the bright idea to eat their lunch up here, so the boy didn’t bother to hold back.

Big mistake.

Once the sobs finally began to soften and slow down, Miles heard the shuffling of feet.

Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look up.

A familiar pair of sneakers. Beat-up white running shoes, with a little golden anklet around the right sock. He held his breath as they slowly backed away before disappearing into the dark stairwell.

Taglist just in case:

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@sizeablysized

@itsnotino

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@kissmxcheek

@urmotherswhor3

@mrs-morales

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@inluvwithneteyam

#miles morales fic #miles g morales #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #moralesanhour

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seidraikiri · 9 months

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⚜️TITLE: DOUBT TRUTH TO BE A LIAR

⚜️RATING: T

⚜️WC: 4,1k

⚜️TAGS: Possessive Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Dark! Miguel O'Hara, Stalker Behaviour.

AO3

summary: Everything has a plan when it comes to Miguel.

#tag: seis.fics #sh: flowerfang #sh: fangflower #sh: miguel x miles #ch: Miguel O'Hara #ch: Miles Morales #flowerfang fics #fangflower

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incorrectweb · 2 years

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harley: okay, so peter got locked inside the bathroom because the lock got stuck so we have to get him out somehow. amadeus, quick, give me your credit card!

amadeus: here.

harley, pocketing it: cool. now, miles, kick the door down.

#harley keener #amadeus cho #peter parker #miles morales #marvel #ch: harley keener #ch: amadeus cho #ch: peter parker #ch: miles morales

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clonehub · 11 months

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what do yall think miles baby room looked like

#ch posts #across the spider verse #miles morales

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 13 days

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Code Blue Ch. 50 - Red Dawn

Summary: A tense car ride is full of twists and turns. Josie gets an upsetting message. Craig softens and he and Jo seem to bond as they share another long talk. A phone call leaves Jo with more questions than answers.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, anxiety, drinking,

Chapter characters: Luke, Josie, Craig, Lee

Chapter word count: 7,953

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

Salem, Massachusetts

March 22, 2022

The tedious drive back to Salem seemed like an eternity and it was deafly quiet, except for the cat-like purr of Luke's Charger. As soothing as the subtle sound was, it still couldn't calm the seething tension between you and the law abiding bad boy that consistently chewed on his thumb nail, for it was much too close for comfort in the compacted side by side space.

But as the cruising car entered Essex county, your focus then went to the mile long monster that lied up ahead. The Salem Harbor Bay bridge that you had recently drove over with Orlando with no choice, for time had been of the essence to get to Dave and this time, your reaction was not much different as your anxiety began to rise, but at least that time, you were in the driver seat. You had control and had someone with you that you trusted and felt safe with and that got you through it. Now, you were literally bound by your wrists and at the mercy of a man who's personality was all over the place. Hot, cold, gentle, savage. It was mood swing madness and you had been stupid enough to wake the lion.

The no speaking agreement was now over for you as you became desperate. "Can you please go another way?"

Luke's tone was cold and his words were straight to the point. "Nope. Freeway. Nowhere to turn around. This way is faster. The sooner I get you out of my car and my sight, the better."

You supposed you couldn't blame his anger after shoving him like you did. You were angry with yourself too, for look where it had landed you. In cuffs and facing prison time for assaulting a cop. Jesus, how were you going to get out of this one? You hated to admit it but Luke was probably right. Gerry couldn't do anything for you. Not without jeopardizing his job and his morals, but...it didn't mean he wouldn't try and you had to hold out hope for that, for if anyone could find some loophole to free you, it was your ex-fiance. You also knew that his guilt over his drunken one-nighter with your sister would give him the extra incentive, not to mention, he still loved you and now you were the one who felt guilty for even thinking of using that against him. BUT, you had the same issue you recently had with Dave. Gerry was M.I.A. and now with that added onto the Brobdingnagian bridge rapidly approaching, your nerves might just send you into a code blue.

Seconds before the wheels thumped over the divide from stable ground to an abyss of lung filling liquid, Luke couldn't help but notice your fear through his random side eyed glances at you as your body stiffened up, your breathing ceased and your eyes clenched shut. He pretended not to notice as he stared straight ahead and tried not to care but deep below the hardened shell of a man, the Grinch's small heart grew 3 sizes that day.

"What's going on Jo?"

"Just shut up and drive. Faster would be great." you muttered, eyes still closed.

"Can't. There's a truck in front of me and I can't pass. Double lines."

Your left eye peeked at Luke. "Oh my god mister holier than thou. Trying to make up for the shitty things you've done by being a model citizen now? What happened to the skillful driver who perfectly whipped my Monte Carlo around every turn in town like he was Luke Duke in the General Lee trying to outrun Rosco P. Coltrane?'

"But Bo always drove the majority of the time."

"Yeah I know that! I just thought it was more fitting to say Luke since that's your name and your hair is dark like his."

"True I suppose. I didn't care for Bo anyways. I don't like blonde hair."

There was silence as both of your eyes were now open and glaring at him as he stared straight ahead with that curled smug smirk of his.

You then raised a smart ass brow. "So that's why you cuffed and stuffed me."

Luke's eyes swung right over to yours and now you were giving the smug smirk.

"I cuffed you because that blonde hair of yours caused you to do something extremely stupid. Now, I thought we weren't talking?"

Your lips pursed and your eyes slitted. "We're NOT! So just hurry up and get us over this bridge already."

"We've been over it for the past 30 seconds."

"What?"

You straightened up in your seat and looked around to see that you were now on a rural road surrounded by forestry.

"Hmmph." you marveled as you burrowed back into your heated leather seat. "Guess I was distracted."

Luke grinned as he glanced at you. "Exactly. It usually does the trick."

"Wait, so...you only engaged in conversation with me to distract me from my fear??"

"Yep and it worked like a charm. Guess I' m not such a bad guy after all."

"Says you."

His eyes snapped to you as he grimaced. "Why do you hate me so much?"

"Is that supposed to be a rhetorical question??? Can you please just STOP talking now??"

"Whatever." he mumbled and sped up.

Not even a minute passed and Luke was speaking again. "So...you're afraid of bridges huh? Why's that?"

Rolling your eyes, you sighed and continued to gaze out the window as you reluctantly replied.

"I'm not afraid of bridges. I'm afraid of heights. There's a difference."

"So, more so, you're afraid of falling really."

"Well duhhhh...and falling into what lies beneath it. All the weight of that water, just pulling me down further and further into it's ice cold depths where there's nothing but darkness and it fills my lungs as my panic forces me to suck it in, trying to breathe."

"Or...you could always swim."

Your eyes lowered as you became quiet and began fidgeting with your fingers.

As Luke looked at you, awaiting your usual mordant riposte, he quickly realized why you hadn't.

"You...you can't swim?"

"Does this even matter? Why can't you just leave me alone and quietly revel in my misery? I got my just deserves. But hey, if you do happen to find a heartbeat under that cold and austere armor, could you not mention this to my mother for the time being? This is the last thing she needs right now."

You wriggled your hips in the skintight seatbelt so you could turn towards the window to hide the oncoming tears of shame and once Luke couldn't see you, they poured out of your eyes like a waterfall. What you didn't consider was that he could see your emotional reflection in the glass as you silently sobbed.

5 minutes of faint intermittent whimpers and sniffles were unwillingly heard loud and clear by Luke. As he came to a stop at a red light, he looked over at you and that's when his own anxiety got the better of him.

Seeing you all vulnerable and huddled against the door like a child sent a stinging twinge of empathy through his heart and made him question if what he was doing was right, even if you did break the law, for he had goaded you and not only that, your anger was justified about Lee. He wasn't going to tell you that though or the fact that he spent many nights weeping and beating himself up over what happened between him and his once upon a time good friend. It was extremely hard for him to speak about just as it was for Lee, for Luke knew it was all of his own fault by intentionally knocking over the first domino, he just never knew the chain of events would lead up to what it did. What he did know is that someday, you would know the ugly truth.

As Luke neared the road that led straight into downtown Salem, the guilt trip he was on forced him to abruptly stop and turn around.

As he pulled to the side of the road and parked, you were already sitting straight up with wet and wildly confused eyes.

"What are you doing? The police station is the other way?"

"I'm not going there. Give me your hands."

"What??"

"Jo, just give me your hands before I change my mind."

As you slowly and unsurely swayed your hands in his direction, he grabbed them, startling you as he vigorously unlocked the cuffs, then yanked your seatbelt off.

"There. Go on. Get out of here."

You sat speechless for a moment, staring at him as he stared out of his window, chewing his thumb nail once again.

"You...you're letting me go...just like that??"

"Did I not just take the cuffs off and tell you to go?"

"Ok but...here? You want me to walk? It's at least another mile to get back to my apartment."

"Can't you just thank me and get out?"

"Why won't you look at me and WHY are you doing this?"

"God damn it." he grumbled and side eyed you. "Why are you such a pain in the ass??!! Just fucking go!"

"Not until you tell me why you changed your mind and are freeing me into the wild like some caged bird??!!"

His palms slapped over his face and then he roughly dragged them down as he groaned in frustration.

"If I tell you, will you fly away???"

"Depends on what the answer is."

"Holy fucking hel..." he began as his fuming eyes met yours, but abruptly paused when he saw the remnants of your tears, then popped the glove box open, ripped a tissue out and held it in front of you as he continued, refusing to look at you once again.

"It's what you said about your mum. You're right. She don't need this. I spoke with her briefly last night and she was quite distraught about Megan so, I just feel with all her grief over one daughter, she don't need the added stress from another."

"So you're telling me you're doing this for my mom??"

"You sound like that's incredibly hard to believe."

"I don't know what to believe from you anymore Luke. One minute, you're this sweet and caring man that seems to have a heart, like the one who once came to my mom's house and comforted me through an anxiety attack and even defended me against my sister and stopped me from strangling her, WHICH ironically I was doing for you with Landy only 24 hours prior when you morphed into robot Arnie the freaking terminator...and the next minute, you're back to being human again, helping me back there on the bridge and now you're claiming to let me go out of sympathy for my mom."

You sat back in a huff, realizing that Lee was behaving the exact same way and you were at a crossroads, literally, on what to do anymore about either of these messed up men.

Luke sighed and softened up a bit. "Look Jo. I don't know what else to say. I pushed you over the edge, waving a red flag at you. If I hadn't done that, I don't think we would be sitting here right now."

And so you softened up a bit too. "Yeah well, I pretty much came at you sideways and got you all riled up."

Luke chuckled and shook his head, then looked right at you with a disbelieving smile.

"What?" you asked, returning a half smile as your eyes curiously tried to figure him out.

"You. You're so afraid of all these things that are bigger than you and here I am, at least 3 times your size, yet you weren't afraid to shove me on my ass. I'm not sure what shocks me more. The fact that you did it or the fact that you were even able to do it. I admire that fire in you Jo. Don't ever let anyone try to put it out. With that said though, use that fire on those other than authority. If it were anyone other than myself or Gerry, you'd be at the station right now being booked as we speak."

You gasped. "Oh god, speaking of, I better call Dave and tell him because I guarantee he's already on his way to bail me out and you'll be busted. I mean, it's the least I can do so you don't lose your job over me."

Luke sat quietly stunned as you made the call, telling Dave to turn around and asking him to keep what he knew under wraps.

"There. He won't say anything. I really hope you are going to lay off of him now."

"As long as these ferry tickets he gave me and the ferryman's words all coincide, he should be good. Thank you Jo and... for the record, I wouldn't have just left you out here. I would have let you sweat for about 5 minutes and then came back." Luke teased with the usual curled grin, then put the car in drive.

Your riposte came out of left field and definitely struck a nerve. "Thanks for sparing me from being another victim of love em and leave em Luke."

Luke gritted his teeth, appalled by knowing that either Orlando or Lee had told you about his notorious moniker of his younger days that he had long forgotten about and wanted to keep it that way.

"This joy ride is over. It's time for you to go home and...about Lee. Just stop asking me. It's his story to tell. Put your seatbelt on."

"It's not just his story when you're involved."

"Wasting...your...breath." he firmly certified and slid a cd in, hoping to shut you up.

You buckled your belt then crossed your arms and scoffed as you sank back into the seat. When a song came on, Luke cranked it up and began mumbling the words as he tapped his fingers upon the wheel and both the singing and the choice of music had your eyes gaping at him with an severely raised brow.

"There'll be no strings to bind your hands..." he began and then snickered as he glanced at you. "How fitting eh?"

"Seriously? You have a Juice Newton cd? Why am I not all that surprised."

"You're mocking me when you clearly know who she is?"

"Nope. Not at all. It's just that the night you drove my car, your choice of music was quite different and frankly much better."

"Oh, you mean Radar Love. Yeah well it was fitting for the occasion just like this one because now here we are with you, a cheery oh angel of the morning." he razzed and then beamed a snarky smile full of teeth.

Shaking your head, you heavily sighed and looked away, trying to ignore the overgrown infant beside you, but that quickly became impossible when he began crooning out the chorus, which you knew was solely just to annoy you.

"JUST CALL ME ANGEL OF THE MORNING BABY! JUST TOUCH MY CHEEK BEFORE YOU LEAVE ME BABY! Then slowly turn away...from meeeee."

youtube

"Whad'ya think? Next American Idol winner?" he gloated and howled on with his karaoke session, which if you were to be honest, Luke had a damn good set of pipes but you wouldn't dare tell him that because then he would certainly never shut up.

"Goblin king, take this baby away from me!" you irrationally jeered, then flung your head back against the seat and closed your eyes to try and zone him out, hoping he would take the hint to leave you alone, but you should have known better than that.

Luke's speedy riposte was a breath stealing punch to the gut and you had pretty much had set yourself up for it.

"Oooo ouch. That's rich coming from you. You know Jo, you should really be careful what you wish for since children seem to go missing when you're around."

Just as your eyes snapped open from the sting of his tongue, Luke was pulling up in front of your apartment and low and behold, Craig was outside speaking with what appeared to be a gardener.

"What a coinkydink. Daddy dearest in the flesh. So, does he know that Blaise was right within his reach that night and you knew and didn't...."

"He knows alright! I..I told him yesterday and now, I guess I'll be moving back in with my mom."

"Oh? Why not move in with Lee? You're basically at his place and up his arse all the time anyways aren't you?"

"Now you're the one wasting their breath. We're done here Luke. And if I were you, I'd get out of here before Craig sees you. Besides me, you're not exactly his favorite person."

"Not worried in the least."

As you opened the door, Luke touched your shoulder. "Hey Jo."

"What now??"

"Just be careful around him ok? You're probably better off to get away from him."

"And that's rich coming from YOU." you argued and got out.

Before you could close the door, Luke had more to say.

"Oh and Jo."

"Oh my god, what Luke??"

"Don't let the door hit you in that cute ass."

You shot a death glare at the derogative detective, then slammed the door and heard the blacked out window roll down.

With an arrogant wink, Luke put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses and attempted his best terminator voice. "I'll be bock."

Your eyes rolled so hard, it made you dizzy. "Ughhhh!"

As you stormed off, he revved the engine and sped off which then alerted Craig to your arrival. The last thing you wanted was another confrontation, especially with your rightfully pissed and soon to be ex-landlord, so you kept your head down and moved quickly, feeling his eyes upon you the entire time as you trekked up the sidewalk and into the building, but he never said a word.

You were now safe inside your apartment, all alone to finally gather and process all of your scattered thoughts, but first, you needed to call your mom and see how Megan was.

Slipping off your coat, you let it fall to the floor and went straight to the fridge for some wine, not caring that it was only 10 in the morning, the same time Craig had been drinking yesterday that you hypocritically gave him a lecture about. As you sat down on your bed with your full glass and turned your phone screen on, there was a text from Lee.

When you opened it and read his woeful words, your heart dropped down to your stomach as if you were falling.

Lee always expressed himself with such endearing words from his heart, but sometimes, he let poetry and music speak for him and this time, it was lyrics from a song you knew.

"I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do haunted by the ghost of you. Take me back to the night we met when the night was full of terrors and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet. Take me back to the night we met and then I can tell myself what the hell I'm supposed to do. And then I can tell myself not to ride along with you."

Your heart began to pound, for Lee was basically telling you he wished he could go back to that day in the hospital and never visit your room and that meant you never would have found his bracelet under your bed and took it to his house where your love story all began. You knew he wasn't trying to hurt you. He was just being honest about how he was feeling, but it still hurt. It hurt immensely.

You didn't reply. You didn't even know what to say to that, so you just picked up your wine and let the entire contents of the glass roll down your throat as you fought back the burning tears.

Desperately trying to distract yourself, you called your mom. She told you Megan was doing well but was still too groggy to speak. She also told you that she saw Lee that morning when she came down for coffee. He was on the phone with someone, seemingly upset, so she respectfully kept her distance but she couldn't help overhearing his scolding tone to the unlucky recipient. He spoke about his father's one month of passing and that he was going to his grave to pay his respects after attending the evening mass and told the other person that they should be going too, then Lee abruptly hung up and stormed out. You knew instantly it had to be Gordon and had something to do with the farm dispute between the two bitter brothers.

You told your mom you would be there later to sit with Megan so she could go home, eat and shower. When you hung up, you then nervously wondered if you should still go to the cemetery too, like you and Lee had planned, for if you saw him, you might not be able to walk away again.

Undecided, you got up to begin packing up some things since Craig had given you till the end of the month to move out and that was now only 7 days away. Luke's words haunted you about moving in with Lee as you sorted through your clothes. Yes, you were there all the time and everything was perfect in that area. You were so happy there with him. You would have been happy anywhere with him because Lee was home to you.

Your distraction tactic of keeping busy was failing miserably and it was quickly blown to bits when you were going through clothes you hadn't laundered yet and found a shirt of Lee's that you wore home a few mornings ago. And if that wasn't gut wrenching enough, it was still saturated in his Drakkar cologne and all you could do was scrunch it up against your nose and inhale his intoxicating essence as you laid down and cried your exhausted eyes to sleep.

Meanwhile, Craig was on his way up to your apartment to give you back your deposit and as he approached your door, he raised his hand to knock, but humbly lowered it when he could hear your muffled laments from within. Whatever you were going through, he felt that he should not add to it and it aggravated him that he even cared. Was any of it due to how he had treated you?, for he just witnessed you had rushed to avoid him at all costs or was it because of the depraved detective he had come to despise?, solely because he was Ethan's brother. Craig's street smarts told him Luke was still a red flag, no matter what surname he took on to disassociate himself with the flyblown Bloom blood and if Luke became a threat to you as Ethan had, he would handle him too. Regardless of what was ailing you, Craig decided to leave you alone for the time being and slipped the check under the door, then left, feeling rather disheartened over making you leave.

3 hours later.

You awoke in the same position that you fell asleep in, still tightly clutching Lee's shirt against you and now, not only did his sweet succulent scent seep from your pores, it was also imbedded in your purple satin sheets. You had to get rid of it. ASAP.

The bed was torn apart as you ripped the sheets from it and threw them in the basket along with the perpetrator, Lee's guilty shirt and then headed to the door to take them all down to the laundry room which is when you discovered the check laying on the floor.

Upon picking it up, the amount floored you, for it was hundreds more than what you had given Craig and attached on the back was a sticky note, scribbled in red ink with incredibly perfect penmanship for a man.

Craig certainly seemed to be on the wealthy side but this was too much and was clearly not about your clothes. It was his guilt over kicking you out and you weren't about to accept a payoff apology, especially when he didn't even have anything to be sorry about. You were the reason his 4 year old daughter was missing, even when you weren't the one who snatched her.

Exasperated over that and everything else, you hurried downstairs and packed the washer full of clothes along with an undetermined amount of soap while sobbing the entire time, then went back up to cry some more in the shower, a shower that was cut short by a burst of water as cold as the Atlantic and rust as red as blood....just like what happened to Dave. AND...you had the same reaction as he did.

Gasping and frantically rubbing your eyes, you huddled in the corner waiting for your sight and the water to clear. What was happening?? You did not believe that to be a coincidence all in a matter of 8 hours at two far away different locations, especially when that had never happened in your shower before. Was it some kind of sign, more so an omen or was it merely a plumbing issue like Dave believed his was?

Now that you were all primed and primped for the day, you resumed your packing while debating on calling Craig about his demonic shower needing an exorcist and to come get his money, or...you could just simply shove it back under his door with your own note attached so you didn't have to interact with him. Option 2 seemed best.

You scrawled out a note on the back of his and reattached it to the check, then quietly creeped down the hall to his studio where all was silent inside. Hoping he wasn't in there, you bent down and slipped it under the door, cringing at loud the sound was. Just as you stood up to tiptoe off undetected, footsteps swiftly approached the door.

Spinning around with a gasp, you rushed off only to freeze solid at his shout from directly within the door.

"Just Josie. Come on in!"

With a gulp, you hesitated then slowly made your way back to the door and walked in. There he stood, dressed in all black attire as usual and wickedly grinning while holding your check.

He then turned it over and began reading your note out loud in a trenchant, yet amused tone.

"Thank you but no thank you. My outfit only cost twenty bucks at a thrift shop."

"Well, if that's so." he continued, "then you obviously like deals and that's what this is. A hell of a bargain actually."

"Craig, the added amount is almost as much as one months rent. All you needed to give me was my deposit."

"I was trying to apologize for my wine induced behavior and the harsh things I said to you and a simple "I'm sorry" just didn't seem to cut it."

"You don't owe me an apology Craig. I deserved all of it and the paint bath too."

"You were only trying to help my drunk ass up and even after the first failed attempt that ruined your clothing, you still tried again. And no, you didn't deserve my spontaneous misguided anger. You didn't kidnap my child and you certainly couldn't have known that it was going to happen."

"How could I have not?? I witnesses Elizabeth drop her off at Angel's in a panic over Ethan harassing her about paternity. I should have tried a hell of a lot harder to reach you, end of story... and for that, I will forever be so damn sorry, but as you said, those words just don't seem to cut it. I..I pray that you find Blaise safe, sound and soon. I really do and I will do whatever I can to help make that happen and make things right for you and her. Now, I have to go finish packing. Your apology is accepted and please just keep the money."

"Alright." Craig agreed with astonished disappointment all over his face as he watched you walk out.

His agreement was short lived though and he chased after you, squeezing in your door just before you turned to close it.

"Craig, what the..."

"Just hear me out. Please?"

"Do I even have a choice since you barged right in?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Ok fine, but whatever you have to say, you'll have to say it while watching me pack. I have a lot to do today."

"Fair enough. I guess I'll start with Jason. Are we even now?"

"Even?? Craig, I swear I didn't use Blaise to get back at you for..."

"No no no. Jo, I know you didn't and I'm sorry I ever said that. What I meant was, well...if I forgive you, can you forgive me for not telling you your brother was alive? I mean, you were pretty rabid mad that day. Just a little bit scary." he teased with a smile.

You chuckled as you thought of what you just did to Luke. "Yeah umm...I guess I too had spontaneous misguided anger. It was meant for Jason, not you. I know you were just trying to keep him safe and you did. You saved his life, so how can I not forgive you?"

"Sweet. So we're square now. Well, except for one thing."

Craig walked over to your suitcase and began tearing your clothes out of it.

"What are you doing??"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm unpacking your clothes."

"What...wait...why?? Put those back!"

"I will not. I don't want you to leave. I kinda like you a little bit if I'm honest AND I think you kinda like it here and maybe even me too and..."

He held up a long blue dress and placed it against his brawny body. "And oooh wow. Smokin hot."

"Give me that!" you barked and grabbed it, but Craig laughed and wouldn't let go.

"Nope. Not until you agree to stay." he demanded as you both were now playing tug of war...until the dress split right down the middle.

"Oh, well THAT'S great. It's all yours!" you huffed and plopped down on the edge of the bed.

Craig sat down too and slowly handed you the ripped remnants.

"Sorry." he whispered.

You couldn't even be mad, especially when he had the shameful expression of dog who got busted for chewing up a pair of shoes. Instead, you did what you were becoming a pro at lately. Broke down crying with your face buried in your hands.

"Whoaaa, hey now sweetheart. What's this??"

"Everything!" you squeaked and then rambled on. "My sister was hurt really bad and is in the hospital. She could have, would have died if she hadn't been found and I know Ethan did it, and I was almost arrested today for what you described as my rabid madness and Jason took off with Britt because of your creepy ass father and Lee, he is...I don't even know anymore with that and then everyone's showers are spraying blood and..."

"Alright slowwww down and breathe love. Let's start with the psycho scene. Showers are spraying blood??"

"Yes, mine and Dave's. Well, he said it was rust but with all this ghost shit, I don't know what to think."

"Ghosts??"

"Long story. Is your shower doing that?"

"No...and what did you do to almost land yourself behind bars?"

You mumbled your answer in shame. "I...assaulted a cop."

Craig's eyes popped wide open as he released a titter out of is grinning lips. "Oh how I would have loved to have had a front row seat to that event. What a little baddy you are. Remind me to never piss you off."

"Not funny." you sniffled.

"Ok, maybe not then, but you're obviously not in jail. So, how'd you get out of that mess? Oh wait, was it your ex-fiance cop?"

"Let's just skip this part ok? I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Considering Craig saw Luke drop you off and how fired up you both seemed, he knew it was him you spoke of, but per your request, he would drop it and the overwhelming desire to take the little piggy to market...for now.

"Yeah cops aren't exactly my favorite subject either. Ok so...what's going on with your sister? Ethan attacked her?"

"It certainly appears that way but she hasn't been alert enough to finger him. I'm going to the hospital later to see if she's talking, but I just know it was him. I think he did it because she told Luke that she thinks Ethan took Blaise because he thinks he is her father or maybe he did it to scare me because he hates me and wants Lee all to himself."

"That measly inbred maggot. I should have just taken care of that problem when..."

Craig stopped himself but, it was too late.

"When? Does that have something to do with what you said yesterday? About something you did for me involving him??"

Craig seemed stunned and he was. "I...said that??"

"Yes..I...I just forgot with all that was going on. Craig, what did you mean?"

"Jo, I was quite sauced yesterday remember? I tend to say a lot of things when I drink. What...exactly...did I say?" he probed with an curious brow so he could figure out if he had to tell you what he knew about Ethan and Lee.

"You said you protected me from him but never said why or how."

Craig made sure that his explanation wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the entire truth because he felt you didn't need to know Lee was still Ethan's husband during a meltdown.

"Ohhh...that. Yes, well...I...I saw him once and I basically told him to stay away from you or he'd be fish food." he paraphrased as his heart began to beat again.

"You did that for me?"

Craig suddenly felt awkward. Not in a bad way, but more in a "too close for comfort" kind of way, so he gave a logical answer instead of admitting he had taken a sweet fancy to you, which was the last thing he wanted. He had vowed to himself after Elizabeth's destruction that he would never allow himself to become close to another woman ever again.

"Well...you're my best friend's little sister, so, you know. What's important to Jason is important to me."

"Well thank you and well... I wish you HAD fed Ethan to a mosh pit of sharks, still ALIVE and baited in a pool of his own blood and then let me watch so I could hear his screeching screams and the satisfying crunch of his bones as the angry aquatic vampires with a thousand razor sharp teeth chomped him to death in a splashing feeding frenzy of pure diabolical rage."

"Yeeesh. Easy there Annie Wilkes. Tell me how you really feel, minus the Stephen King synopsis. Horrifying image."

"Arrrgh. Jason was supposed to have taken care of him by now and for saying that, I feel like such a fucking hypocrite for giving him and Lee such a hard time about Liz when she was no better than Ethan."

"And I married the black widow. Even had a kid with her, or so I thought. Creator of life, destroyer of mine. "

'"So did Lee basically. She fooled everyone, EVEN Ethan. God Craig, how could she do that to her own son??? That little boy was my nephew and now Ethan has your daughter and I know he's not just going to forget about Lee. So much keeps happening. No wonder I ended up in the hospital."

"I...I heard about that and...I wanted to maybe send you some flowers or come visit but...I..I didn't think my presence would have been appropriate, you know, just being your landlord and all and well...there's the little tidbit of my primary profession as well that I'm sure Lee isn't too fond of. Anywhoooo...I'm really glad you're ok. You're...ok..right?"

"For the most part yeah. Just gotta keep my iron intake up and stress levels down, which you can see is damn near impossible with the life I'm stuck in."

"You're only stuck if you choose to be."

"It doesn't feel like a choice anymore, even when I try to...ugh, it doesn't even matter."

Craig's ocean-like eyes were consoling as his hand went to your cheek. "Hey, it does matter. What else is bothering you? I have really good listening ears like that of a faithful family dog, only much less hair and a strong but soft shoulder to lean on and even comforting arms if you recall."

"I don't know. Like, for one thing, I'm supposed to hate my sister after all the horrible shit she's done to me and yet, I'm having a hard time hating her after what happened. Like, why...why do I care about people that don't deserve it???"

"Because you have a good heart which can sometimes be a curse really. You're supposed to be able to trust the people closest to you and when they go and give you a reason not to, it's a total mind fuck. It's hard to let them go even when you know it's what's best for you. I get it Jo."

"What I don't get is why I'm not good enough for the truth. I'm always being lied to. It's become nothing but a pattern and how am I supposed to trust someone when I don't know what they're holding back?"

"Ok first of all, you are good enough and if someone doesn't see that, then they are the ones not good enough and second of all, why do I feel this is not about your sister?"

"I appreciate what you're trying to do Craig, but...it doesn't matter."

"It does matter because you're clearly not happy. Tears don't lie. Are...you happy?"

Your eyes fell. "No. No I'm not. I'm miserable."

"Me too. Why don't you stay. We can be miserable neighbors together and drink wine every day and night to the point of inebriation, creating terrible art as a hobby while being covered in a rainbow of paint. You know, kind of like I already do? It's actually kinda fun and therapeutic. A little bit of good trouble..per se. I could use some inspiration as you well know."

You giggled. "Right...because we would actually be the artwork. How inspiring."

"Exactly! Except you'd be a firework. Oh, and you still owe me a viewing of your own masterpieces. So...whad'ya say?"

Craig got down on one knee and took your hand as he gave you a pathetic puppy face.

"Will you be my neighbor?"

"Oh my god you're such a nerd. Get up." you chortled and stood up.

"Well, I've been called much worse. Things I cannot even pronounce. You don't want to know, trust me. Sooooo, is that a yes?"

"I'll think about it."

"YES!" he jeered like an old lady at a bingo game winning the jackpot.

"So now, I'm really sorry but I need to get going. Thank you Craig...for listening and for the advice. It was nice. I want you to know I'm thinking of Blaise everyday and if I can help, I will. You'll never convince me that it wasn't my fault."

In the blink of an eye, Craig became all serious as he placed his hands on your arms. "Alright but, before I go, I need you to listen to me. Don't be letting your guilt cause you to do something dangerous. You let me handle this ok?? I don't want anything happening to you. Let me know what you decide on the apartment and...I'm really glad you're ok Jo and I...I hope you will stay. I like having you around."

He softly smiled and headed to the door, then turned back around.

"Oh and...I'm also glad you don't hate me."

"Ditto." you smiled. "Talk soon."

Craig left and you felt terrible for him. The formidable mafia man, always full of quirky humor wasn't so tough on the inside and was clearly lonely, but even so, you had to do what was best for you and if you stayed, would it really be a good idea? Had you known when you first moved in that Craig was one of Sonny's men and Jason's bff, you most likely would have ran away as fast and as far as you could. On the other hand, he could protect you and he wanted to and you felt safe around him. BUT, that didn't mean you would be. Things could always go wrong, especially in his world, which was now your world. Although, hadn't it always been your world because of Jason? And things always went wrong then, no matter where you were. Even your own brother couldn't keep you safe.

In your confliction, you knew you may still need to leave on a temporary basis because of your sister. No one knew yet what happened to her or where Ethan was, so she could still be in danger and that put your mom in danger as well with Megan living with her.

As you carried on with packing the rest of the one suitcase for the time being, once again you were interrupted. This time by the cordless phone ringing that Lee had talked you into getting for extra ways of communication. You decided to let the answering machine get it because you were in a hurry to get to the hospital, but when Lee's hypnotizing voice was heard, you stood frozen in time.

"Hey sweet girl. I tried your cell but...I don't know, it must be on silent or maybe you just don't want to talk to me. I wish you would. I'm sorry about my text. I didn't mean it in the way you must think. If you're there, could you please pick up? I'd really love to hear your voice."

He paused and waited a few moments, then continued.

"Ok, well, I...I'll just say what I need to say and leave you alone. Jo, I know I've said this so many times and it just sounds so meaningless, but I mean it, with every ounce of my being. I'm so sorry baby. For all of this. For all I have put you through. It's only been a single day and I miss you in ways that there are no words for. You are a mental and physical ache. A longing woven deep into my DNA and I...I don't know how to live like this. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'm nothing without you. I'm inside out. I merely exist in this soulless shell and because I know you exist, there's no going back for me. There will never be anyone else for me but you. No one else could ever do. The heart wants what it wants and mine wants you and I knew it. I knew you were the right one from the get go and I still know it because the word "forever" does not sound like enough time."

As your heart was being torn in two and devoured by his agony, you walked over to the phone and picked it up, letting your finger hover over the call button, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer, so you just kept listening to his unintentional torture.

"I know I have no one else to blame but myself. I know I'm broken. We were both broken. By life. By others. By our own serious dysfunctions, but we finally found each other after a decade of near misses. We were so close to each other all that time, yet so far apart and when destiny finally stepped in and we finally came together like the sun and moon during a total eclipse, all of the jagged edges of our broken pieces fit together like a puzzle, as if all that time, we were being broken for that purpose, to be a perfect fit for each other. But now I feel like I don't fit anywhere at all. Not anymore. Life goes on around me as i sit here and watch the boats sail by on the bay and I feel like I'm just a spectator, watching from the sidelines. You were...are my life. You are where I belong. You are my purpose, my reason. God Jo. Without you, all I want to do is drown my sorrows away and Lord knows I've tried, but even then, a sea full of whiskey couldn't intoxicate me as much as a drop of you. Because of you, I believe in love and fairytales and soulmates and everything that is magic. I followed the signs because you showed them to me. Just tell me it's not too late. Don't give up on me. I want to tell you everything and if I can bring myself to do that, maybe then you'll understand. I guess I've wrote a novel here and I should go. I still wish you would come today...to the cemetery. I'll be there around 4. If you don't come, it's ok. I will understand. Ok well..."

There was a pause and then he finished as his voice became very shaky. "I...I love you Miss Massachusetts. God I love you."

Lee quickly hung up and sat down. He had too. The 3 Red Bulls he downed earlier paired with the threat of an oncoming panic attack had him jittery, weak and breathless.

"Lee wait!" you shouted as you punched the red button, but there was nothing but a dial tone.

Should you call him back? It would be so much easier than speaking to him in person because he had this wicked way of breaking you down and getting what he wanted from you that no one else had ever possessed, but of course he could say the same thing about you. Now the real question was, should you go? Lee clearly needed you and you were worried about him. You could hear it in his voice, the fear, the destitution and desperation...the love. And just because you and he were having problems didn't mean you would abandon him, but were you strong enough to uphold your boundaries in his presence? The mere sight of him was like some invisible magic in itself. You felt so guilty because he was fighting like hell for you and you were keeping him at arms length and just running away. Fight or flight? That was the all out question now and you knew exactly who to go to for the answers. Someone who had been through it all. Your mother.

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